The Winged Lion
by literally illiterate duck
Summary: Human AU, Venice 16th century; A young noble strives to become a master painter, but must hide his talent. After being helped by his mischievous brother, he is dragged into his antics and ends up stealing a coin pouch belonging to an important diplomat from the Holy Roman Empire.
1. Chapter 1

It was mid-autumn. Venice was glistening in the noontime sun after grey morning showers. Murky waters started to shine in deep blue tones and the canals were now filled with gondolas and various pompous boats from wealthy Venetians.

Rainwater gathered together in small pools on the cobblestone streets, where people now cheerfully strolled on their way to the market, or elsewhere, in the hearth of the city. Although the sky was bright, it was still rather cold. As Ludwig stepped out of the small church on one of the many plazas in the city, he fixed his long black cape on his shoulders and put on the hat with two beautiful long pheasant feathers back on his head. After a long and somewhat dangerous journey all the way from the north, he had to thank God for bringing him safely to his destination. He entered the first church he saw to say his prayers and gratitude.

He breathed in salty air and looked around, relived to finally reach Venice.

But in the midst of this, someone behind him shouted.

Ludwig tried moving his head to see what was happening but it was too late. He felt a heavy and sudden force thrusting him down from his side and he soon found himself knocked over on the wet stone street. He shook his head and moved to stand back up again, but he felt weight pressing him down. A head of chestnut hair was currently laying on his chest. Ludwig shook his head yet again and sat up, shoving the shoulders of the culprit who knocked him down. He was met by two honey coloured eyes gazing straight at him.

 _"Mi scusi signore!"_ cried the stranger, scrambling to get up. His gaze still locked with Ludwig's. The individual stretched his arm to help him but Ludwig refused to take the hand and stood up on his own.

The culprit was nothing but a street rat, wearing worn out boots, plain peasant pants, a simple white shirt and a cape on his shoulders that once might have belonged to some noble but now was stained with... _colours?_ Ludwig narrowed his eyes, looking at what he was now sure were colour stains. As he started eyeing the younger man better, he realised he wasn't covered in dirt like he assumed. His clothes, hands and even his face was full of either tiny colour drips or huge smudges. The boy realised he was being inspected by Ludwig's cold and sharp gaze. He shivered and cried _"Scusi!"_ one more time before he started running away.

Ludwig was caught in his thoughts and only when he saw the boy running away did he grabbed on his side to check his coin pouch.

"Thief!" He shouted, realising there was no coin pouch with golden coins strapped on his side anymore. "Stop him!"

But people on the plaza looked at him as nothing happened; as if none of them saw him being robbed.

"You must be more careful next time," said an old man who passed by carrying wooden crates. "You are in Venice now."

Ludwig bolted to the direction where the boy headed. He ran quickly, avoiding people as best he could. 'How could I be so stupid', he thought while trying to reach the thief, 'How could I have not seen that coming?'

The boy swiftly turned into a small alley and Ludwig followed quickly after him. The thief then stopped, putting his hands on his knees as he bent over. Ludwig could see his shoulders and chest moving rapidly as he was gasping for air.

"You shouldn't have followed..." He heard the boy silently whisper.

"To hell with you, filthy rat!" He responded angrily.

"Go away..."

Ludwig had to listen carefully to hear that reply.

"Well, well!" Another voice was now coming from the dark corner of the street. "Quite a catch you got today!"

Ludwig snapped his head at the direction the voice came from. He looked at a silhouette emerging from the dark.

"A foreigner!" The silhouette continued, his voice cheerfully echoing in the street. Ludwig didn't have a good feeling about this. His head started spinning.

The thief handed Ludwig's coin pouch to the new person standing next to him, and a few other shadows emerged from the other dark corners of the street. Ludwig tensed. This was trap!

'Dear God…I survived my journey from the north all the way to Venice only to be butchered on the first day here!' he thought to himself.

The bandits exchanged a few words, but Ludwig couldn't catch what they said until the voice of the main silhouette hidden in the darkness broke their murmurs.

"Give us all you got and we'll let you live!"

Ludwig felt cold sweat coming down his brow. He held his breath and clenched his hands into fists.

"Let him go."

All of the eyes were now aimed at the boy who knocked Ludwig down and stole his coin pouch.

"With his pouch, we will have enough," He faintly, smiling to Ludwig almost like he was apologizing. "Besides, we don't need more problems with the guards."

The bandits started murmuring again, leaving Ludwig in his shock and fear.

"Very well!" The voice of the silhouette said. "Run away before I change my mind!"

Now, Ludwig wasn't a coward. He was never afraid of duels. He would always gladly accept his challengers and defeat every single one of them with ease. But this was no duel. No rules applied to these filthy street rats with no manners. The man didn't need to be told twice.

"You will pay for this! All of you!" He shouted in anger, eyeing the thief again before quickly escaping from the narrow street.

As he left, the silhouette now emerged from the dark corner, revealing his slender body and chestnut locks; almost identical to Ludwig's thief if it weren't for that one lock sticking out in the opposite direction.

"You did good, _fratello._ " He said, patting the shoulders of still bent-over thief.

"Tell me again Lovino, why do we do this?" The boy asked the other.

"What a stupid question!" His lips twisted into a mischievous grin. "Because it's fun, of course!"

To be continued…

* * *

 _Mi scusi signore!_ = I'm sorry, sir!

 _Scusi!_ = Sorry!

 _fratello_ = brother

 **Note:** Thank you Kirani56 for correcting my grammar and awkward sentences. I am so grateful and lucky to have you as a friend and beta reader for my gibberish.


	2. Chapter 2

Two days passed since he stole that foreigner's bag of coins and although he did it so many times before, he was troubled by his thoughts. He didn't need the money. Neither did his brother. With their grandfather being a wealthy noble and part of the Ducal Council, they lived in one of the most sumptuous palaces in Venice. And yet, they were stealing from everyone they could. Rich, poor, it didn't matter to them. They did it for fun.

Feliciano was still shaken up by the man's words and the look in his eyes when Lovino threatened him... It was too much for Feliciano. He had to step in for him or else he would've gotten much worse than being robbed that day.

He couldn't rest. He wasn't at ease.

He jumped up from the velvet red chair in the salon of their _palazzo_ , almost knocking it down from his forward lurch. He ran to the entrance, grabbing his dark green silken cloak and tying it under his neck. Stepping out of the _palazzo_ , he headed for the nearest deck with a gondola and gondolier waiting by it. The man by the boat greeted him while he skillfully jumped in.

"To the church," Feliciano said. The gondolier nodded, pushing the gondola onward with his foot on the deck. It didn't take long until the he stopped the wooden boat next to a different deck near a smaller plaza. Feliciano jumped out and tossed a coin to the man in the boat.

The church was standing in the end of a minor, constricted square, surrounded by other stone buildings almost as tall as the church itself. He swiftly skipped every other step leading up to the massive wooden doors and pushed them open.

Despite the church being rather miniature when compared to the other ones in Venice, it was completely filled with colourful paintings, frescos and statues. Behind the altar stood a polyptych with a golden frame connecting paintings into a complete, huge one. Feliciano looked around, observing the immensely decorated church and feeling delighted to be surrounded by such beautiful artworks. Ever since he was a small child, he loved the arts. Music, sculptures, architecture; he enjoyed all of it. But most of all, he loved paintings. There was something in the world of colours, pigments and shades that seemed so divine to him. All these items, carefully placed on a plain white canvas to create a new scenery…it was something that could be entirely frozen forever in time.

He snapped out of his thoughts when he noticed the wooden confessional on the side of the altar. His throat was dry and he bit the inside of his cheek.

He never liked to confess. Not that he was a bad person with a lot of sins. Not at all! In fact, he attended every Sunday mass with his grandfather and brother, always respecting and following the rules. He even gave money back to the poor. 'How ironic,' He thought, exhaling heavily.

Feliciano stepped in the confessional and kneeled down with his head lowered.

 _"In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti,"_ He began with familiar words, not even noticing the way they spilled from his lips. "Forgive me Father for I have sinned. It has been four days since my last confession..."

"Feliciano?" A familiar voice came from the other side of the confessional. "Is that you, my son?"

He grimaced. "Yes, Father."

The priest exhaled heavily. "…What did your brother make you do this time?"

Feliciano stayed silent for a while, thinking about Lovino. His brother was the one who made him steal just for his own fun, and Feliciano could never say no to any of his ideas, even though he knew he was doing something bad.

"Let me hear it, my son." said the priest, accepting the confession of this boy once more.

"It was two day ago, Father. My brother and I went into town disguised as the commoners with our friends again. We were strolling in the city when my brother saw a strange man in a black cape. He was clearly a foreigner, and Lovino decided we will steal his coin pouch. Umm, I mean, that I will." Feliciano scratched the back of his head in his awkwardness. "I ran into him, knocked him down and stole his money. He didn't notice anything until I started running away. He followed me to where Lovino and our friends waited and I tried to warn him..." Feliciano gave a hard swallow down his throat. "The foreigner was so angry at me for stealing from him but all I could think was how to help him so he wouldn't get beaten. I warned my brother about the guards and Lovino set the man free."

"You did the right thing." The priest said. Lately, he had to listen a lot about Lovino and how he got his little brother to do all sort of reckless things. He felt sorry for Feliciano always being dictated around by him, so whenever he had to listen to the confession of the restless boy, he tried his best to comfort him. "The only thing you did immoral was blindly following your brother's wishes and not thinking for yourself. He should be kneeling down in front of God instead of you right now."

Feliciano stayed silent, knowing full well that his brother was not going to confess anytime soon.

"As for your penance," The priest continued. "You must find the man you stole the money from and return it, reflect on what you've done, and your sins will be forgiven."

"But Father..." Feliciano's eyes were wide in shock. He expected the priest to give him a few prayers, possibly a chapter in the Bible to read but not _this_...

"Don't question me, my son." The priest raised his voice. "No prayer will make you feel better than doing the right thing. Besides, facing the man might make you think before your brother tells you to do something reckless next time." Feliciano felt dizzy and his limbs felt weak and boneless. "God's guidance works in miraculous ways. Follow your heart and you will please our Lord and put your soul at ease."

As Feliciano stepped back in the gondola, he still couldn't fathom what he had to do. All of this made him so much more uneasy than he was before and he almost regretted going to the confession. One thing was for sure now; he had to do what the priest told him in order to redeem his soul.

.

Feliciano climbed his way up the stairs and opened the old wooden door of the big, spacious atelier. The room was filled with outside light from the many windows. Numerous canvases of various sizes were leaning on the walls; some empty and waiting to be used, but most already painted with beautiful bright colours.

 _"Buongiorno, signore!"_ Feliciano called.

"Veneziano, my boy, is that you?"

 _"Si, signore!"_ Feliciano walked inside the room, peering around and checking to see if any new paintings have come or if any of the old ones were sold. An old man was hunched in front of a canvas in the middle of the room. He didn't move his eyes from the painting he was working on. Ancient hands were mixing the paint on the wooden plank next to him. As Feliciano stood behind his back, he could see the unfinished painting. A black background was surrounding the delicate face of a woman with bright long locks falling on her shoulders, faintly covering her almost exposed breasts. She was smiling shyly, although a lot of her skin was exposed. Her eyes were painted in dark brown, almost black, and something about the look in those painted dark orbs seemed so devilish to Feliciano.

"I don't have enough green," The old man said, still mixing the paint and not moving his eyes off the painting. Feliciano rushed to the big open chest placed next to the wall. He looked inside it, moving some jars, paper wraps, brushes and small wooden boxes.

"It looks like we're completely out of green," Feliciano said. "Should I go and buy some for you?"

"Yes, that would be appreciated." The old man stood up. His black clothes were full of paint as well as his white beard. He stretched his arms and back while walking to Feliciano. "I need to finish the portrait by the end of the next week." The painter put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a few silver coins. "I wouldn't like to make _this_ noble wait." He said with a hint of concern.

 _"Si, signore!"_ Feliciano took the coins and hurried out of the atelier.

"Veneziano!" The elder stopped him and it made Feliciano turn to look back at him. "Be careful!"

"Don't worry, _signore!"_ Feliciano smiled brightly before he closed the door and skipped down the stairs.

The old master Vecellio was a nice man. The moment the rumours were spread across the city that he was in need of a new apprentice, Feliciano was dying to take the position. The only problem was that no artist, whether famous or not, wanted to enrage any noble by taking in their son, or in Feliciano's case, grandson, as an apprentice. Art was for the nobles to enjoy and to brag about, comparing their own portraits with others. But no noble was an artist. Could anyone imagine the shame and rumours if somebody were to find out that a noble was sitting in some atelier, mixing paints and stroking their brush on a canvas? Outrageous!

That was why Feliciano had to take up a new name. And oh, how creative and oh, so witty he was with his new name! Why couldn't he take something more common as Marco or Luca? There were plenty of Marcos or Lucas in Venice. Yet the only name he could think of when the master asked his name was Veneziano. So stupid, he thought to himself.

All of this was, again, Lovino's idea. When Feliciano came rushing to his room one day with news he heard while he was strolling in the city, Lovino came up with the idea of dressing up as a commoner and then asking for the position of an apprentice.

And so Feliciano agreed to this game of pretence, only because he desperately wanted to have such a master as old master Vecellio. Feliciano did not want anyone know who he was, neither him nor especially their grandfather.

The old master never asked many questions, though. He would simply wave and mumble something about youth nowadays when Feliciano didn't know how to do something servants usually do, or to go somewhere in the city where no nobles would go when asked to. Feliciano was grateful for his old master's patience. But the pleasure between the master and the apprentice was mutual. Vecellio was lucky to have such a skillful apprentice, even though he was blissfully ignorant and took everything so lightly, as if he hadn't ever had to go through any sort of struggle in his life. His brush strokes were marvellous and his colouring amazing. The boy's ability of noticing details and putting them precisely on canvas was outstanding and Vecellio was surprised with each new painting Feliciano would work on.

Little did Vecellio know that Feliciano, in fact, didn't have a single worry in his life as a grandson of a noble in the Ducal Council.

It had been around two years since Feliciano took up a new name, old clothes and the apprentice position. And it was also around two years since Lovino, inspired by his little brother dressing up and pretending to be an actual apprentice, came up with the idea of dressing himself up and enjoying the simple life of a commoner. At first, Lovino and Feliciano would dress up in old rags and simply stroll around Venice, meeting common people and exploring the parts of the city too unusual for nobles. When the real commoner boys they made friends with decided to join in, it was when Lovino came up with yet another of his brilliant ideas.

So they started stealing to have more fun, or to show off how cunning Lovino was, Feliciano wasn't sure. It started with an apple in the marker plaza or with a bagel or two in the bakery, but soon enough, they started stealing coins from the nobles and ended up taking the complete pouches full of it.

It was all so much fun for Lovino! He was so bored when he had to behave well during some dinner or tea party or, even worse, the ball. When he put worn out clothes on and smudged his hands and face, so he wouldn't stick out like the clean noble he was, his face would light up with pure joy. He felt so free and alive!

Feliciano was happy for his brother to have a break from the stuck up and stiff behaviour he had to fake daily, but as soon as they started to steal, he became so worried and ended going to church every now and then to confess his sins.

It was another bright sunny day. The streets were full of people; the markets filled with fruits and vegetables, colourful fabrics, daggers and beautifully decorated weapons along with all sorts of other goods. Even the rare ones like spices. Salty sea air was mixed with the smell of basil and rosemary and somewhere in the corner of the big plaza were some performers playing with the lute and the drums.

Feliciano knew where he had to go to buy what his master needed. A stand on the market filled with canvases, brushes, quills and powders for colours.

The merchant already knew who Feliciano was. After all, Feliciano was the only apprentice Vecellio had, so he was the only one to do all of his tasks like getting new brushes or whatever else he needed.

"Only the green one today," Feliciano tugged on his simple brown cap covering his face, careful to not to be accidentally noticed by either one on the servants or nobles.

He was given the brown package full of green powder his master needed. _Terra Verde_ were the swirly black letters that was labelled on the package. He gave the silver coins to the merchant and started heading back.

The market plaza was filled with the rich, poor, servant, and noble. But in this mess of people, it didn't matter. Everyone was welcome to spend their coins on various goods and everyone seem to equally enjoy it.

Feliciano cheerfully pranced between everyone, carrying the package of colour and humming a melody. He was looking forward to coming back in the atelier. He had yet to find out on which painting will he be working today and the thought of holding a brush in his hand made him even happier.

But suddenly, he felt strong grip on his wrist.

He gasped in shock, turning his head to see who it was. As he turned around, he faced somebody's chest and had to look up to see the face of a man. His eyes met a pair of crystal blue eyes.

 _'Azzurrite?'_ He thought to himself trying to remember what had Vecellio though him about colours and pigments 'No! _Azzurrite_ is too dark. _Blu oltremare_ , perhaps? No, not that one either...' He occupied himself trying to figure out the correct shade of blue of the eyes he was mesmerized with, but what he didn't notice was the rage in the man's exhibited.

"You!"

As the man shouted, Feliciano snapped out of his thoughts, and the memory came rushing to his head. It was then when he finally recognized the man, but now his wrist was being held so tightly, Feliciano was sure he would get a bruise.

'You must find the man you stole the money from and return it, reflect on what you've done, and your sins will be forgiven...' the priest's words echoed in his head. By God, he _had_ been planning on doing it! He had to redeem his soul! But what he didn't expect was coming across the man so soon. He wasn't ready to face him. Not now. Not like this.

"Little thief!" The man hissed through his clenched teeth, his heavy foreign accent piercing the air between them. Feliciano started shaking in fear.

 _"Signore, per favore..."_ Feliciano caught himself pleading. Was he about to beg? His brain stopped functioning and was now completely blank. He was on his own, and neither Lovino nor any of his friends were there to help him out his time. In his fear and confusion, he raised his foot and jammed it down as heavily as he could on other man's boot.

The man recoiled back, cursing and swearing in some strange language and slightly loosened up the grip he had on Feliciano's wrist. It was just enough for Feliciano's slender hand to slip out of his grasp and as soon as he was released, he started sprinting.

He rushed to the street that led out of the plaza to the inner canals. He quickly crossed the first bridge and continued running to a tighter street with a tall marble building nearby. His body was still shaking in fear when he decided to look behind him to make sure he was not being followed like he was before.

He was alone. Nobody was there. Feliciano stopped running. His lungs were painfully gasping for some air and his legs felt tired. 'How did this man find me?' he thought to himself, trying to make his shaky legs to continue walking his way back to the atelier. He looked down at both of his hands. They were completely empty. He must have slipped the package with colour while he was fleeing.

 _"Stupido!"_ He shouted, kicking the air angrily with his leg. He couldn't risk going back to look for the package or to buy a new one. But he couldn't go back to his master empty handed either.

 _"Stupido!"_ He shouted yet again, this time louder.

"Looking for this?" The voice was weak and out of breath, but still coherent.

 _Terra Verde_. That's what was written on the package almost shoved in his face. Feliciano felt the grip on his collar. The man was slightly picking him up off the ground.

"You can't run away now, little rat, can you?" said the man with his cold and stern voice. His blue orbs fixed on Feliciano's now watery eyes. God save his helpless soul...

To be continued…

* * *

 _In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti_ = In the name of the Father, the Son and of the Holy Spirit

 _Buongiorno, signore!_ = Good day, sir!

 _Si, signore!_ = Yes, sir!

 _Terra verde_ , a _zzurrite_ and _blu oltremare_ are colour pigments typically used in renaissance paintings.

 _terra verde_ = green earth

 _azzurrite_ = azurit

 _blu oltremare_ = ultramarine

 _Signore, per favore..._ = Sir, please…

 _Stupido!_ = (I'm) stupid!

 **Note:** Once more I have to thank Kirani56 for an amazing job with beta-ing my texts and generally helping me out so much! Please, make sure to check her profile, you can find her in my favorite authors. Also, thank you very much for your help ludwig . fan!

All the possible mistakes, both grammatical and/or historical, are made by me.


	3. Chapter 3

"Let go of me!" The boy Ludwig was holding was struggling heavily, trying to fight him off. And despite the crying, Ludwig could feel him shaking and swinging his fists rather hastily. Occasionally, he even hit Ludwig's arm.

"Oh, shut it!" Ludwig yelled, jerking the collar of the brat's shirt, where his fists were keeping a hold on. His voice echoed in the empty streets.

"Please, _signore_..." The boy stopped fighting, his small body now completely shivering. "I didn't mean to."

"Not only do you steal, but now you dare to lie! Where is your dignity?"

" _Signore_ , I will give you back every single coin!" Tears were sliding down his face, falling down on Ludwig's clenched fists.

"It's too late for that. The guards will decide what to do with you." He began to pull the boy back to the plaza. He was sure he could easily find a guard there.

"No! No!" The boy screamed. "No! Please! I'm begging you!"

Ludwig ignored him, his hand still firmly holding the other's collar while he tugged him along. The boy tried to fight off again, but was too weak to continue.

" _Signore_..." The Italian whimpered, sobbing quietly. Ludwig was already starting to get irritated. He turned to face at him.

The boy's face was red and his eyes were pink from crying. Aside from the wet cheeks, he still managed to look back at him with his nose dripping messily.

"Clean your damn face!" Ludwig shouted.

The boy stiffened and blinked the rest of the tears out of his eyes. He was afraid. Hell, he was terrified of Ludwig! The young Italian quickly wiped his face with his sleeve.

"Why did you tell me to go away when I followed you into that street the other day?" Ludwig asked, trying to keep his voice cold. He remembered what the boy whispered to him just before his friends emerged from the shadows in the street.

"I-I..." His body was still shaking. "I didn't want you to get hurt..."

Ludwig lightly loosened his grip on the boy's collar. He glared into his honey coloured eyes.

"You're lying."

"No! I'm not!" He shook his head frantically. "Please, I'm telling you the truth!"

"And how can I believe you after all of this?"

"I didn't mean to do any of this! I didn't want to tackle you down! I didn't want to steal! And I didn't want you to get hurt!"

The boy was already sobbing again. His eyes were tightly closed almost like he was expecting to get hit or slapped. "I just…couldn't say no…" He whispered. Oddly enough, the boy completely relaxed his tense and shaky body in Ludwig's grip, almost as if he had accepted his fate.

"And you knew there were no guards in that part of the city when you warned your friends, didn't you?"

The boy didn't say anything now, absently eyeing the stone street as he faintly nodded in agreement. Ludwig exhaled heavily. He released the boy from his tight hold and stepped back. Ludwig didn't know how to feel about all of this, honestly. He had the fate of this boy in his hands. He could turn him in for stealing, condemning him to prison and hard labor until he dies from some disease or malnourishment. Yet something deep inside him felt sorry for the poor kid. In the end, it was _he_ who stopped his comrades from butchering him, after all. He felt like he owed him his gratitude for helping him out, even though he was the reason he came across those bandits in the first place.

"What do I do with you, hmm? Though you stole my money, you saved me from getting beaten up." Ludwig's eyes were met again with the younger male's honey orbs. The remaining tears were still sliding down his face. "I can't just turn you in for stealing. It's not right."

Ludwig's eyes fell on the package he still had in his hand. There were black letters written on it. _Terra Verde_. He recalled seeing coloured drops and smudges all over the Italian's clothes the other day.

"Here." Ludwig handed the item to the boy, who gently took it back. Ludwig eyed the other's hands while he was taking the package. Though they were slightly cleaner today, a few obvious colour smudges were still visible on his pale skin.

The younger male looked like a frightened deer in the forest, facing the hunter and dreading for its future.

"Go." Ludwig said, but the boy stood, frozen. "Go! Leave! _Gottverdammt!_ I'm letting you go!" He yelled at him, louder this time. His rough voice startled the other and snapped his attention. The boy started bolting away quickly, disappearing behind the corner of the street.

"And, by God, don't cross my path again." Ludwig growled to himself, knowing the boy was far enough not to hear his words.

.

Feliciano kept on running breathlessly. His head was spinning; his legs and arms sore. But he didn't stop until he caught a sight of the familiar stone stairs leading to the atelier. He collapsed on the first step, still panting and gasping for air. He buried his head into his hands, releasing all of the leftover sobs that were still left in him. He was afraid and confused and no matter how hard he tried to, he couldn't calm himself down.

After some time, though, he gained enough strength to control his breathing for a bit. He stood up and climbed the stone stairs, opening the old wooden door as he stepped in the atelier.

"What took you so long?" The old voice came from the middle of the room. Feliciano couldn't speak. He walked to his old master in silence, handing him the package of green powder he asked for with his trembling hands before retreating to the corner of the room. There was an unfinished portrait of some noble that provided the perfect distraction from today's events.

Feliciano was sure Vecellio noticed his red face and irritated eyes. Despite giving him a few worried looks, the elder didn't ask him again on why he was so late or about whatever had upset him. He simply left him in peace, working on the portrait. Feliciano was silently grateful he wasn't forced to tell the story about the foreigner he had encountered. But a certain thought seemed to trouble him still. He had yet to return the stolen money and the pouch…

.

Lovino was sitting on the wooden dock, facing the main harbour of Venice. His friends left him long time ago, and with Feliciano working in the atelier, he didn't have any reason to go home yet. Besides, grandfather was probably too busy buried in numerous charters, letters and pieces of parchment. He wouldn't even notice him being out late again.

He took off his boots and splashed his feet in the sea. The cold water felt so refreshing and natural. As he watched the sea, he absently put his hand in the pocket of his coat. Since he had started coming to this dock to just sit and be alone with his thoughts, he often would fill his pocket with pebbles from the streets just so he could throw them into the sea later on. This time was no exception.

He was throwing each stone slowly and gently, his eyes fixed on something on the horizon. Though, he wasn't sure if something was really there. The sun was on its way down, which made the vision slightly blurry.

Seeing the sailing ships anchored in the harbour, Lovino thought how great it would be to hop on one of those and simply go away into the unknown world. He would feel so excited when he heard all of the stories from the explorers on their ships: their great adventures in new and unexplored lands, the tales of the savage people and so much _gold!_ He even heard that somewhere in the New World lies a city created entirely of gold.

But instead, he was trapped in this city of stones; in between the land and the sea. In its monotony, it was also grey with utter boredom. Oh, how he longed to set off with one of those sailing ships and never come back!

Lovino raised his eyes back on the horizon. The sun was kissing the sea now, and its surface was filled with dancing orange waves.

'Feliciano would love this sight', he thought, imagining his little brother trying his very best to smudge the same colours all over the white canvas to recreate the outlook.

As he looked in the distance, he could now see the shape of a new sailing ship approaching the harbour. Its masts with white sails were sticking out in orange scenery of the sunset. 'So it _was_ something in the end'; his lips turned into a smirk.

The sailing ship was elegantly gliding its way to the harbour. The white sails were gradually being pulled down by the sailors to slow its speed. As the ship was getting closer and closer, he could hear the sailors shouting to each other. The big wooden ship turned its massive body to anchor in the harbour.

Lovino stood up, trying to see the view better. He could now spot the sailors running on the deck of the ship, throwing the ropes to tie or pull the sails completely down to anchor. Lovino stood on his toes to see the flag in the back of the ship. Unfortunately, he was too short to see anything much more. He angrily kicked the air with his bare foot briefly before whirling around to find something that could give him height. Behind him stood a wooden crate covered in fishnets. He quickly climbed the box and returned his gaze to the sailing ship.

Parked next to the smaller Venetian galleys, the newly arrived vessel looked so _massive_. It definitely wasn't built to be swift and agile, like to avoid reefs and the shallow waters of the Adriatic. No. It seemed like it was made to survive gigantic waves and deadly tempests.

At the bow of the boat, he saw the wooden figure of a woman with her mouth open. She looked like she was screaming. Her hands were carved in a way to make it look as if she was holding her breasts, but not in a provocative way, though. She didn't look raw or anything like it. It was more like she was trying to protect herself from something. Lovino shook his head, thinking of how stupid the figurehead was.

On the opposite side of the screaming wooden maiden, above the captain's quarters, stood a white flag with the two crossed red lines coming to form a large "x".

'Saint Andrew's Cross' Lovino thought, biting the inside of his cheek. He spat on the deck.

'What do they want now?' He glanced once more time to the tall wooden masts of the ship.

"Damn Spanish bastards!"

To be continued…

* * *

 _signore_ = sir

 _Gottverdammt!_ = Goddammit!

 **Edit:** Thank you everyone for reviewing, favoriting and following _The Winged Lion_ , you are awesome! I hope you enjoyed the chapter and are staying for the next one!

I must mention my outstanding beta again! Kirani56 has been nothing but an angel and helped me so, so much with my story. Make sure to check her profile, you can find her in my favorite authors.

Also, I'm really honoured to tell you that my story is actually getting translated in Spanish! (I mean, how crazy is that?! Right?!) Go and check it out here on FanFiction, the translator is VonKellcsiis. You can find this wandering-translator again in my favorite authors on my profile.


	4. Chapter 4

A beautiful wooden lute stood on the floor in the corner of the spacious room. Despite being well past sunset, a faint light pierced through the windows of the palace. The lamp Lovino held in his hand made the wooden frames shine, casting maroon shades as he passed. Lovino sighed and picked up the lute from the floor, brushing his fingertips gently on the smooth surface of the instrument. It had been several years since he held it, but he always recalled his first time. He remembered his younger brother and grandfather waking him up in the early morning that day to wish him happy birthday. While Feliciano was jumping on his bed trying to kiss him, unintentionally making Lovino angry first thing in the morning, Grandfather handed him a rather large, yet light package wrapped in pale yellow paper. He then apologized, explaining that it might not be exactly what Lovino had asked for.

Lovino let out a gentle laugh, recalling his own disappointment when he unwrapped the ugly paper, which revealed the lute. Sadly, it was not the horse he was expecting to get. Because they lived in the heart of Venice, a horse wasn't even an option. They had been banned from the city for more than two hundred years now and having one in some village on the shore had been too complicated and absurd.

Though it wasn't what he wished for initially, he grew to love the hollow wooden instrument. That is, when he was finally able to play it.

As he began back, Lovino brought the lute with him to bed. He began to play some quiet and rich melody while strumming his slender fingers on the strings of the lute.

His room echoed with lush sounds now. Lovino reminisced how upset in the beginning he was when he couldn't figure how to make a tune. No matter how many times he tried pressing one string stiff while strumming the others, the sound it created simply wasn't right. At some points he would get so upset and angry that his face would redden, proceeding him to then toss the lute away in frustration. He would then storm into Grandfather's study room to remind him what an awful present the lute was. He especially kept restating the fact that if he had a horse, he wouldn't be as infuriated.

Needless to say, Grandfather didn't give in to his complaints and didn't get him a horse. Instead, he sent him to various lute composers and masters in Venice who, eventually and with a lot of struggle, taught him how to play it.

'One of noble birth must learn how to dance, how to wield a sword, how to ride and how to play the lute.' Grandfather would often say to encourage him. Lovino shook his head, reciting Grandfather's words.

"One of noble birth…" he muttered to himself, tossing the lute on bed like he was suddenly disgusted by it.

A sound of footsteps echoed in the hallway and brought Lovino back from his thoughts. He heard Grandfather's voice coming closer, saying something Lovino couldn't hear nor could understand. He hurriedly got up and leaned his ear on the door, hoping to catch what his Grandfather was saying and with whom. As the footsteps went further down the hall to the study room, Lovino cracked the door wide enough for him to peek. He saw the back of his Grandfather and a tall, broad shouldered man with a black hat and cloak walking beside him while nodding to whatever Grandfather was telling him.

Lovino closed the door as silently as possible. He attempted to avoid being noticed and slid down to sit on the ground, leaning with his back on the door and his head hunched down.

It was all his fault, wasn't it? Grandfather was overworking himself, sacrificing his life for the Republic ever since _mamma_ and _papa_ had passed away. Lovino didn't want to hear about taking on his family's duty and stepping into politics. That would mean taking over Grandfather's position in the Council.

He furiously hit the cold floor with his fists.

"It's not my damn fault!" he hissed thorough his teeth, quickly standing from the floor.

Lovino grabbed his cloak and fixed it on his shoulders. He made sure his _stiletto_ was strapped on his side as he stepped out of his room. He hurriedly left the palace, disappearing in the night of Venice.

.

A tall marble building stood proudly above _Rio de San Luca_ ; the smaller canal directly connected to the Grand Canal in the richest part of Venice. The pale marble of the palace was illuminated by the torches lit on the streets. Yellow and orange shades were splattered on its richly decorated façade, revealing the smooth texture of the stone.

Feliciano was late. He would usually come home much earlier from the atelier to avoid the risk of getting himself caught either by the servants or his grandfather. But today was different. During his time working, he couldn't find peace. Feliciano was troubled by his thoughts, so much that he simply couldn't focus himself to work on the portrait in a timely manner. It had been planned to be finished by the late afternoon, but the project extended well into early evening. He didn't want to just walk away with an unfinished painting he was told to complete, either.

He snuck into the palace through the back door, entering the kitchen. Feliciano was relieved since none of the servants were there. He quickly retrieved his clothes he hid in one of the cabinets of the kitchen earlier today before he left for the atelier. Since nobody was in the area watching him, he removed his commoner's clothes on the spot and changed into clean and pompous new clothing without much hesitation. Even though his face had a few new colour stains here and there, now he looked like a proper young noble, wearing tall black leather boots and black pants with a white silken shirt and a pale green short coat on top. He reached in the pocket of his coat and pulled out a big golden ring. After putting it on, he absently touched the cold golden metal around his finger. Razing his hand higher, he could see a small head of a roaring lion standing on the band looking fiercely back at him. Feliciano smiled at the tiny golden lion on his finger, remembering when he and Lovino got the same rings from their grandfather.

'It's the symbol of our family,' Grandfather said. 'Wear it with pride.'

Finally dressed properly, he poured a jug of water into a wooden bucket. He then carefully cleaned his face and neck with a damp cloth to take away the colour smudges and dirt. But before he could continue, he suddenly heard someone approaching the kitchen. The door opened and a servant girl stepped inside. He scrambled to fix the scene.

" _Dio mi salvi!_ " she screamed, rounding the corner and seeing Feliciano. " _Signore_ , I'm sorry I screamed. You scared me!"

"It's alright," Feliciano whispered, equally having been scared by the woman's scream.

"Why are you here, _signore_ _?_ May I be of service?" she asked. Thankfully, Feliciano was fast enough to hide the evidence of what he had been doing earlier.

"No, no. I was just, uh, checking..." Feliciano said, racking up his thoughts to develop a convincing excuse.

"Checking?" she raised her eyebrows.

"Yes, well, the dinner, and you know..." he was nearing to door trying to escape the girl's confused look and further questions. "Well then, _buona notte_!"

He ran out of the kitchen, happy to get away. Feliciano looked around. The palace was empty and silent. There were no other servants loitering around the corridors, no sight of his grandfather nor Lovino. No sounds of steps other than his own, nobody talking nor laughing. He couldn't even hear a whisper. It was absolutely noiseless and uninhabited.

Feliciano ascended the marble stairs to where his and Lovino's rooms were, still desperately trying to hear or see any sign of life in the palace. At the end of the corridor, the door of the study room was shut. Grandfather was still working then.

Feliciano stood in front of his brother's room. The door was also closed, but unlike their grandfather who sometimes, yet rarely, kept the door of the study room open when he wasn't there or when he wasn't working, Lovino's room was always closed.

Feliciano raised his hand and softly knocked on the door.

"Lovino?" he called.

No answer.

"Lovi, it's me." he called again, this time knocking harder on the door.

Still no answer came from the room. 'He must be pretending not to hear me', Feliciano thought. Nevertheless, he had to tell his brother about the certain foreigner he had encountered yet again. A shiver went down his spine when he remembered how the tall blond held his collar and pulled him around with ease. How he threatened to turn him in for stealing and how he, all of a sudden, let him go.

Feliciano took the handle and was about to barge into Lovino's room when he heard voices coming from the study. Before Feliciano could do or think more, the door of the study room was open. The hallway was now filled with two voices discussing with each other. Feliciano turned his attention to greet his grandfather and the other person talking to him.

"Oh Feliciano, splendid!" He heard the old, but cheerful voice of his grandfather. "Come and meet my friend."

Feliciano faced the guest and his grandfather with a polite smile on his face. As his eyes fell on grandfather's _friend_ , he could feel his blood freezing in his veins. His throat and lips were completely dry from the sight of the same foreign young blond standing in front of him. Panic. Pure panic took control over him.

"Ludwig, this is my youngest grandson, Feliciano. Feli, Ludwig is a new diplomat from the Holy Roman Empire in the service of the emperor…"

Grandfather kept on talking, introducing the guest to him, but the words couldn't reach Feliciano's attention. All he could think of was how the same man who chased after him and who almost turned him in after he had stolen his money was now standing in front of him, in his own palace, being introduced to him by his grandfather. He looked straight down into Feliciano's eyes with stern look on his face and one eyebrow slightly raised.

"Ludwig Von Beilschmidt, at your service," the muscly blond said, slightly bowing his head down but still not moving his eyes away from Feliciano's.

Feliciano's eyes winded in realization. This man was no rich merchant Feliciano thought he was. He was pure nobility! Although he absolutely didn't look like any ostentatious Venetian noble, it was his name that revealed the truth about him. No peasant, commoner or merchant, however rich they might be, had _Von_ in their family name. The three lettered word was reserved only for the highest nobility from the north.

"Feliciano Vargas, the pleasure is all mine." Feliciano said after he pulled himself together a bit. He returned the gesture, also bowing his head slightly down. He could feel his hands tremoring and he could swear his legs would give up on him any moment, causing him to crash down on the stone floor right in front of his grandfather and Ludwig.

The foreigner had yet again demonstrated himself to still have all the power over Feliciano. Ludwig could easily tell on him, saying everything he and Feliciano had shared in the brief, but intensive moments they had when they came across each other.

He felt cold sweat coming down his brow, remembering how this strong, tall brute held his wrist, causing him so much pain when he caught him at the plaza the very same day.

"Feliciano," Grandfather's voice brought him back from his thoughts. "Could you see our guest off? I still have some papers to check. I hope you don't mind, Ludwig?"

"Not at all." Ludwig nodded, bidding farewell to Grandfather before following Feliciano downstairs to the main entrance of the palace. They both were silent, not saying a word to each other, yet the tension in the air was rising with every step they took.

Feliciano pulled the cold handle of the front door and was shocked when Ludwig pushed it back and closed it with a fairly loud slam. He pushed Feliciano harshly on the door, holding his shoulders in a tight grip.

Feliciano tried, but was unable, to rub the area on the back of his head that was smacked rather heavily on the wooden door.

"You've got some explaining to do!" Ludwig was so close Feliciano could feel his hot breath on his cheeks.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about!" Feliciano said, deciding to pretend he didn't know anything. Maybe, just maybe, he could get out of this mess with temporary lies. He would confess for his sins later.

"Liar!" Ludwig pushed Feliciano's shoulders back at the door, making Feliciano hit his head yet again. Feliciano yelped. "What game are you playing?" Ludwig demanded.

"I don't understand you!" Feliciano raised his voice a bit, still trying to pretend like he didn't know anything.

At this point, Ludwig was getting absolutely furious with this little lying brat he was holding. He swiftly flipped the boy around, pushing his face and chest in the dark wooden door and took both of Feliciano's hands behind his back, twisting his arms fiercely before raising them up high enough for the sleeves of the coat to fall down. Feliciano screamed in pain.

"You are a _terrible_ liar!" Ludwig growled, looking at Feliciano's now bare wrists. One had a huge purple bruise, but they were both still covered in the colour drips and smudges that Feliciano forgot to clean before he was interrupted by the servant.

"And I won't let you go this time!"

.

(…)

To be continued… _or maybe not?_

* * *

 _Stiletto_ is a knife or dagger with a long slender blade and needle-like point, developed in Italy in the late 15th century.

 _Dio mi salvi!_ = Dear God! (literally "God save me!")

 _buona note_ = good night

 **Note:** Hey guys! I got super discouraged for some unknown reason and ended up playing Assassin's Creed instead of writing some more. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ I really wanted to write a decent chapter for a change but then my self-consciousness and Ezio Auditore da Firenze happened. Now with Dark Souls III coming out and me being generally dissatisfied with (not the story but) my writing, I have no idea if/when the next chapter will see the light of the day… Anyhow, thank you so much for reading and being patient with me.

This is by far the last piece of the story my wonderful beta Kirani56 checked for me and I'm eternally grateful for her help.


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